Tuesday, December 31, 2019

Films of 2019 … and my top pick, Woman at War

My take on my favourite, as well as the most disappointing, films of the 80 or so titles I reviewed online or on the Banterflix TV show during 2019.

My top film of the year has got to be Woman At War which looks under the model citizen veneer of a community choir conductor and finds an eco-activist lurking who takes direct action against the Icelandic government’s plans to expand the aluminium-smelting plant to take on Chinese orders. Smart, funny, quirky and possibly the most unexpected action film of the year.

My other favourite films of the year …

Extra Ordinary is a well-named escapist supernatural Irish comedy that was a complete blast. With an ending that takes this potential cult classic into a whole other realm, it’s hard to fault this stream of imagination that’s been structured into a coherent and comedic film about a driving instructor turning her back on family ‘talent’.

Capernaum is a reminder that children often bear the brunt of conflict. This is a fictional, yet believable, tale of young Zain, who lives with his siblings and parents in a Beirut slum. With an old head on young shoulders, and a keen observer on what is going on – and not going on – around him in his family, his neighbourhood and wider Lebanese society, Zain has the drive to try to escape. A flawed plot device but an essential film.

For Sama is a heartbreaking record of the ordinary and extraordinary in under-siege Aleppo - journalist Waad al-Kateab’s love letter For Sama to her daughter, born in the conflict.

Gloria Bell sees director Sebastián Lelio return to his 2013 Chilean Gloria with Julianne Moore in the titular role. Moore delivers a masterclass in awkwardness, navigating the conflicts and emotional family situations with a confidence that lets the audience sit back and enjoy the ride. At no point did the plot get its emotional hooks into me, but unusually that didn’t dampen my enjoyment. Gloria Bell is an incredibly satisfying film that deserves its explosive conclusion and the final song from karaoke queen Gloria. The cinematic equivalent of a warm hug.

Apollo 11 was Todd Douglas Miller’s documentary that constrained itself to the period of the launch until the crew arrived back on Earth and sat out 18 long days in quarantine. It used NASA film footage from numerous angles in the launch and mission control rooms and from the Saturn rocket, command and lunar modules, and combined it with the 30-track tapes of mission control voice recordings. No distracting talking heads. Instead it let the first manned mission to the moon tell its own story. The filmmakers trusted that the implicit danger and the obvious dedication of the NASA staff and Apollo crew would be sufficient to carry the 93-minute film. Their bet paid off with a documentary that enthrals and excites.

Ready or Not is the beautifully barbaric tale of a troubled family’s initiation ceremony for people marrying into the household. It’s a bonkers, macabre, gorefest that will have you rolling in the aisle. Directors Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett pull off the trick of planting a grin on audience faces right at the moment something grotesque happens. The accidental dispatch of members of the household staff never fails to be comical. Proper horror.

Captain Marvel had no shortage of action scenes, with barely a blond hair out of place on the scalp of Brie Larson after she knocked nine bells out of the baddies. The film’s ‘girl power’ feminism is worn very lightly. It’s a movie, about stopping wars rather than simply warmongering. If the big film studios are going to insist on churning out superhero films, then let’s have more frivolous stuff like Captain Marvel please. Solid entertainment without so much worldbuilding that the universe collapses on top of its audience.

Joker wasn’t without fault. It’s set in the past (1981) but relies on modern themes. Women are somewhat incidental in the movie. The violence isn’t entertaining. But the thrill of the film is watching Joaquin Phoenix’s title performance. Every movement, every twitch adds to our understanding of the gaunt man behind the mask. And then the moment comes as the Joker walks down a steep set of steps, dressed in a natty red suit and orange waistcoat, with war paint applied. He turns into the familiar figure that has been drawn and acted by so many over the years. The manic dance, the bend of the knees, the flailing hands. The image of a man out of control. The Joker is born. And the scene that follows with Robert De Niro playing talk show host Murray Franklin is the chilling cherry on the cake.

Sometimes Always Never is a story split over two parts and three generations. An initial road trip sees Alan Mellor (Bill Nighy) as a grandfather and a tailor who travels with his son Peter (Sam Riley) to see if they can identify a body washed up on the shore in a town around the coast from where they live. On the silver screen it is a charming, eccentric and witty story of a Scrabble shark who knows about losing.

Accolades for some films made locally or with local resonance …

An Engineer Imagines was a beautiful tribute to the life and work of genius dreamer and cross-disciplinary structural engineer Peter Rice (educated at QUB) whose inspirational talent and unorthodox approach to design and building was superbly portrayed.

The Dig shows a community digging themselves into and out of an early grave. Moe Dunford played Callahan, a prisoner who had served his time and returned to his family homestead. It was moody, bleak, and while totally un-uplifting, there were plenty of gritty performances, inhospitable landscapes and the gradual revelation of the story.

A Hole in the Ground watched single mum Sarah (Seána Kerslake) leave her old life behind and move to a remote rural location with her son Chris. Atmospheric and sinister rather than scary, an Irish horror with a sinister sinkhole, spiders and spaghetti.

Bathroom drops in on two circus artists Regina and Ronald (Angelique Ross and Ken Fanning) who are trapped, living in their upstairs bathroom following ‘the Situation’. They’re locked into a cycle of performing routines and recording them to satisfy the gas mask-wearing visitor Slav from the Council who also provides food to hoist up in a bucket. It's a celebration of circus and proves that the art-form can succeed as effectively under a hot tap as a under a big top. Its light-hearted, unpretentious visualisation of circus mentality is very entertaining, and its allegory overcomes any looseness in the plot. A real highlight from Belfast Film Festival.

A Bump Along the Way with a mum and daughter doing a bit of growing up in a female-centred drama that celebrates ochre and Derry’s scenery. Gorgeous cinematography, but so balanced between the story of the mother and the daughter that neither was given sufficient room. But a fine film about making the most of what life throws at you, valuing good friendships over popularity, and the perils of parenting.

Extra Ordinary is a well-named escapist supernatural Irish comedy that was a complete blast. With an ending that takes this potential cult classic into a whole other realm, it’s hard to fault this stream of imagination that’s been structured into a coherent and comedic film about a driving instructor turning her back on family ‘talent’.

Lost Lives is a lament for the lost lives of the Troubles, a beautiful film about a grim period of local history. Sober spoken words strike into your soul. Provocative, raw, touching and very melancholy.

Ordinary Love is a triumph of restraint as script, direction, music and cast (Lesley Manville and Liam Neeson) combine with the audience’s own insecurities to journey for a year through cancer. Has Whiteabbey ever looked as good?

And to finish, the greatest cinematic disappointments of 2019 …

Aquaman was more fowl than fish, a triumph of CGI and costumes over plot.

Vice was a character assassination grudge of a film (aimed squarely at VP Dick Cheney) that reinforces whatever prejudices you walk into the cinema with.

The Kid Who Would Be King was either a genius parody about the current Brexit debacle or just a film that brought the Arthurian legend into modern times but lacked the script and dialogue a pre-teen audience deserved.

I’m a fan of Atomic Blonde (will there be a sequel in 2020?), Red Sparrow and Salt, but Luc Beeson’s atrocious Anna (starring Sasha Luss) was pallid excuse for a female spy thriller.

Alita: Battle Angel ended up as a cyberpunk slasher roller derby dystopian triumph of motion capture and CGI over plot. While it ticks James Cameron’s boxes for having a strong central lead character and exploring how humanity adapts to technology. However, the epic ambition in Cameron’s mind was not delivered in the script he wrote and the film costing close to $200 million that Robert Rodriguez directed.

The Current War didn’t light me up with its tale of Edison and Westinghouse competing for the electric crown while Tesla looked on in poverty.

IT Chapter 2 was burdened by a 169-minute run time, an appalling ending with a second-rate cinematic pay off as the adult Losers Club https://alaninbelfast.blogspot.com/2017/09/review-it-secret-seven-intimidated-by.html were outflanked by their younger selves.

The Irishman was so not worth the three-and-a-half-hour hype – heresy to say, I know – but I’m still glad I saw it in the cinema (with no toilet break) rather than trying to watch it on a small screen on-demand.

See you in 2020.

Tuesday, December 24, 2019

Cats – never quite achieves its ambition of becoming The Greatest Showcat

Evita easily translated to film with a sweeping story of misused power that was rooted in reality. The cinematic version of Cats is more of an ask with neither huge crowd scenes to wow nor gripping characters with which to pour out your empathy.

The music is good, the singing fresh and the bringing to life of performing mice and marching cockroaches works well in the CGI world. Paying homage to TS Eliot’s Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats through the recital of verse is less effective, and the initial appearance of Grizabella the Glamour Cat (Jennifer Hudson) is somewhat underwhelming, though her later rendition of Memory is superb.

Steve McRae’s routine as Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat impresses, James Corden’s cameo as Bustopher Jones is passable as a star turn, while Ian McKellen shines as Gus the Theatre Cat and Judi Dench should play every role from now on dressed up as Old Deuteronomy given the sense of presence and warmth she wraps up in that furry catsuit.

The last time I saw Cats was on a school stage, showing off the dancing rather the musical talent of the pupils. In Tom Hooper’s new version, the dancing is less thrilling – that’s more about the distance from the screen and the style of editing than the quality of the performances – though Francesca Hayward creates some very graceful moves and shapes while playing the abandoned kitten Victoria.

The finale of the Jellicle Ball requiring the magical abilities of Mr Mistoffelees (played charmingly by wide-eyed Laurie Davidson) is definitely the story’s high point, though it never achieves its ambition to become The Greatest Showcat.

Instead, Cats translates Andrew Lloyd Webber’s popular musical to the silver screen in a way that works for anyone already familiar with the music and story, but doesn’t add much to what a televised version of the stage show could achieve … the 1998 film of the West End production is still available! Update – having now watched the 1998 DVD, the new film has marginally more story and less confusion than the watching-paint-dry televised stage version. Hmmmm ...

Saturday, December 21, 2019

Star Wars Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker – making a last stand to save a dying franchise and answer the question ‘Who is Rey?’

I’m not a Star Wars hater, though I did smirk when I read Barra Best’s Facebook post about the correct order to view the films. Top trolling! The middle films to be produced (and tacked on the front of the classic trilogy) were weak. But some of the more recent additions to Star Wars canon showed signs of improvement.

Episode VII: The Force Awakens was sufficiently retro and full of cliché that happy nostalgia flowed through my veins. I really enjoyed Rogue One. Episode VIII: The Last Jedi lacked hope, lacked Rey (Daisy Ridley), and required a man to turn up and conclude every perilous situation. And let’s not talk about Solo: A Star Wars Story which lacked charm and could have been be subtitled ‘The Great Train Robbery meets Hustle meets Robot Wars in space’.

I sat down in my cinema seat as the familiar yellow text crawled up the screen and hoped that Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker would provide a decent conclusion. It’s definitely not a movie that works as a standalone piece of content. And I struggle to believe that a high enough proportion of cinemagoers are so invested in the series that they can correctly place all the characters and loose threads that are being tied up in neat bows to give it a graceful ending.

There’s a real problem with scale. Spaceships seem to travel vast distances across galaxies at the same speed, no matter their size or condition (and many are literally rust buckets). Key characters can turn up in the same spot defying the rules of probability and the firepower of the Empire’s new fleet.

There are a lot of goodbyes, yet the franchise is extremely reluctant to kill off any of the main characters. Even in this last episode of the story.

There’s a problem with Rey’s parentage – an oft-referred to aspect to Episode IX’s narrative arc – that is really not adequately addressed by the final scene which can surely only be taken as some kind of existential overlay rather than an actual answer.

The opening scenes are wordless and yet introduce the concept of “a New Empire” (very New Labour) with none of the banal dialogue that JJ Abrams allows to pepper the remaining hours of the film. An arch-nemesis who has been pulling the strings continues to stay one step ahead of the Jedi until quite near the end. General Leia has become oddly crucial to the franchise, and while Carrie Fisher is held fondly in fans’ hearts, to me her on-screen presence seems to distract and be more about memorialising the actress than properly developing the twin sister of Luke Skywalker.

A central concern – every film resonates with Brexit in some form or other – is the worry that ordinary people have given up hope and become apathetic in their fight against the Empire. Yet there are deserters who do the right thing and a Dunkirk-like rescue to restore any wavering faith in the Force. “Good people will fight if we lead them.”

Without introducing too many spoilers, watch out for a hot-wired ship that looks like a pair of flying binoculars. The cast visit a Burning Man festival in a desert. A bearded Jedi Father Christmas delivers a very useful present. There are horses in space, and flying Stormtroopers … though the technology seems a little bleeding edge. And Rey comes face to face with demons from her past and some old friends.

Fans may be satisfied, but this cinemagoer’s happiness could have been sated if the story had been curtailed after the first three films (Episodes IV–VI). As much as I love BB-8 and D-0 droids, and enjoy Rey’s attempt to carve out a solo role that isn’t propped up by men (dead and alive), I was disappointed with the 141-minute long conclusion of the franchise 42 years after it began. If anything, the whole of the series is now less than the sum of its parts.

Rewilding Winter Cabaret – a rich potage of irreverent madness to chew on (Writers Square until Sunday 22 December)

The word ‘rewilding’ suggests that something has become tame and is now on the turn. And it’s a good metaphor for the smorgasbord of acts that have come together under the banner of Rewilding Winter Cabaret to delight Belfast audiences in Cathedral Quarter in the run up to Christmas.

The temporary big top squeezed into Writers Square contrasts with the permanence of the stone block Belfast Cathedral on the other side of the road. Both have high roofs. Both had their lights on last night. Both use music and storytelling. Both host events that reflect on issues facing us as stewards of the planet. Both celebrate winter festivals … though in very different ways.

There’s a definite irreverence and a gentle pushing of the boundaries in the cabaret which promises to be “unconventional, environmentally friendly, late night, gender neutral [and] Belfast brewed”. Imagine ‘vegan circus’ and you’ll not be a million miles away from the woke vibe. Punters who bought tickets that included food get a tasty hot cardboard box of vegan goodness from Curated Kitchen to tuck into while comedy songstress Emer Maguire takes to the stage with her clever and entertaining odes to syndromes, class and online love. (Why isn’t she a regular of Radio 4’s Dead Ringers?)

The eco-theme pops up later with Victor McVictor’s energetic exploration of the familiar animals inhabiting the rave jungle, and a Turkey (Cecil McNulty) who somewhat selfishly espouses the benefits of veganism at Christmas and not eating sausages with every meal. Grant Goldie’s contact juggling mesmerises. With Rewilding Winter hosted in a circus tent, it’s entirely appropriate that Suzanne’s impressive trapeze act and Emmen Jude Donnelly silks are part of the cabaret. And given the season, why not throw in Dan Leith’s charity Christmas single and a burlesque Christmas tree (Nuala Rude) that’s dropping more than needles for good measure … even though I’m pretty sure denuding forests is a bad thing for the environment.

The tent is warm, the bar is open, the food was apparently delicious, master of ceremonies Leonie Pony shares extra treats and the sharp edge of her banterous tongue with the audience (poor baldy beardy Ian!) while boisterously introducing the eclectic slate of artists.

Like a rich potage or stew, the Rewilding Winter Cabaret throws together different ingredients and boils them together to create a tasty meal. The thematic linkages are quite loose, and when the artists all come back up to take a bow at the end they could do with a song or a dance to flamboyantly exit the stage. But it’s entertaining and will give you plenty of chuckles and more than a few oohs and ahhs during the 90 minute show before you disappear back into the cold streets of Belfast and rush back off to save the planet from wasteful Christmas shopping, over-travelled brussels sprouts, and trees that have been uprooted merely to cry needles onto your carpet.

Rewilding Winter Cabaret is produced by Three’s Theatre Company in the Tumble Circus Big Top and continues nightly at 8.30pm (doors open 8pm) until Sunday 22 December.

Saturday, December 07, 2019

The Enchantress – womanising royals, scheming advisers and an opera singer threatening a trio of prima donnas (NI Opera Studio until 8 December)

As playboy Prince Ivan gets ready to assume the Zergovia throne from Regent Milock, he must choose a princess to be his queen from the bevy of women who flock around him trying to catch his wandering eye. But can Ivan resist the power-hungry forces who try to provoke his abdication and steer a commoner, the fine opera singer Vivien, into his sights?

NI Opera Studio have a reputation of producing accessible operettas to develop and showcase the talents of their young singers. Victor Herbert’s The Enchantress (with book and lyrics by Fréderique de Grésac and Harry B. Smith) has been considerable shortened, modernised and improved by NI Opera’s dramaturg Judith Wiemers and brought to life with Jennifer Rooney’s choreography and Kate Guelke’s direction in order to create an hour of fun theatre.

So many news stories and contemporary themes resonate with The Enchantress: the womanising of men in power like Prince Andrew and President Trump, the Duchess of Sussex Meghan Markle’s desire to step away from some royal traditions, the scheming behaviour of political special advisers, confusion about calling vs career, and our obsession with fulfilment over integrity. The objectification of women is familiar, the struggle to be respected as independently-minded and monied can still be an issue today.

David Corr’s lazy Regent Milock is advised by “something smells fishy” Troute (Ben Escorcio), a figure who is reluctant to let go of the power behind the throne. Womanising Prince Ivan is played by Vladimir Mihai-Simai, backed up by seemingly less effective courtier Poff (Jakob Mahase) who reckons romance may get in the way of complicated trade deals.

The appearance of Zoë Jackson’s glittery opera soprano Vivien, the titular enchantress, enacts the scheming plans and sets up the Prince’s dilemma. A trio of maiden princesses (demure Ana-Maria Acunune, broad-accented Mary McCabe, and cross-dressed counter tenor David Lee) offer up a very dainty Once there was a very happy little princess before Acunune steals the show with Art is calling for me and her desire “to be a prima donna” and to “shine upon the stage” rather than be married.


Keith McAlister’s spritely piano accompaniment keeps the show moving. The lyrics are easy to follow, the connecting dialogue is full of mirth, and at one point Macarena dance moves add to the sense of farce. The cast step off the sparse black stage and walk amongst the audience who are seated around tables. Props fly, bubbles are blown, tea is well and truly spilt, and the plot zig zags with increasing speedy twists and turns towards its will-they-won’t-they conclusion.

With performances in Derry’s Culturlann and Belfast’s Black Box under their belts, you have one more chance to enjoy this production of The Enchantress on Sunday evening at 7.30pm in Accidental Theatre in Shaftesbury Square.

Cartoon: Mary McCabe

Friday, December 06, 2019

My Big Fat Belfast Christmas – full of heart and soul (Theatre at the Mill until 31 December)

Although their annual Christmas shows at the Theatre at the Mill in Newtownabbey are dressed up with humorous trimmings and larger-than-life characters, Julie Maxwell and Caroline Curran write with pathos about real issues with which audiences can empathise.

My Big Fat Belfast Christmas was first performed five years ago. The script was given a polish over the summer, not long before Julie Maxwell’s sudden death. Despite Maxwell’s sorely-felt absence from the tight-knit cast and production team, this year’s performance made me chuckle out loud – a rarity – as I watched Youcef travel over to his girlfriend’s home in Belfast to celebrate Christmas. The poor lad knew not what he was stepping into. And the host family were pretty up-tight about his arrival on Christmas Eve.

Social ‘entrepremanure’ Mags still lives at home with mum Mary and dad Joseph and doesn’t see eye to eye with her wee sister. But she’s buzzin’ to open her self-given present on Christmas morning. The spare room is filled with the beauty treatment stock she flogs to those she has online influence over. And with no room at the Premier Inn, wee Mary and her beau Youcef are having to stay next door with the neighbours.

Each of the main characters is harbouring a secret, something that will surely surface and change the whole complexion of the festive season in a grand farcical moment of catastrophe. When three strange men with gifts turn up at the door, you’ll begin to listen out for the bleating of sheep and a bright light over the theatre. Financial, familial and social stressors abound. Grief, anxiety and regrets abound. And Christmas only magnifies the problems.

Curran revels in the role of cheeky Mags, showing off her comic timing and facial expressions. Abigail McGibbon brilliantly plays the somewhat flustered Mum who is gloriously nervous.com when tall and handsome Youcef steps over the threshold. The production plays up these uncomfortable moments to full effect, with director Fionnuala Kennedy elongating the pauses and giving each character a range of facial expressions and movements to create a horrific tableau of awkwardness.

As wee Mary, Bernadette Brown capably portrays a young woman who has returned home from the big smoke with trepidation, having to stand up to the exploits of Mags/Curran who throws shade like a champion dart player hitting treble 20. Dad Joe (James Doran) wanders around the house singing his own versions of classic festive songs, while Youcef pulls off the swaddling clothes that wee Mary has woven to protect his actual backstory and delivers a very amusing Stormont rap – “Brexit’s back … What’s the craic … Politics is cack …” – that would have been even better if Matthew Sharpe had thrown his whole body and hand/arm movements into the routine.

While there is much melancholy lurking in the front room, it’s covered up with sufficient levity that the final letter from the grave packs an emotional punch that hits you right in the tear ducts. Last year’s It’s a Wonderful Wee Christmas was dramatically more sophisticated, perhaps a sign of how far Maxwell/Curran had progressed in their writing partnership. But My Big Fat Belfast Christmas is full of soul, wearing its heart on its theatrical sleeve and a reminder that no matter how awkward your Christmas dinner is, it’ll never top the carry-on at Mary and Joe’s house!

My Big Fat Belfast Christmas continues at the Theatre at the Mill until New Year’s Eve.

Thursday, December 05, 2019

Motherless Brooklyn – fighting to find the truth in 1950’s New York (from Friday 6 December)

Motherless Brooklyn tells the story of 1950’s New York private investigator Lionel Essrog who is chasing down clues and contacts to find out why his boss Frank Minna (Bruce Willis) was ‘whacked’. It’s more whydunit than whodunit as he traces his way through city authorities and a corrupt slum clearance programme.

But there’s a sense that you get two films in one with Motherless Brooklyn. Aside from the mystery, it’s also a character study about an orphaned man with Tourette’s navigating his way through professional and personal relationships and longing for acceptance.

Producer, screenwriter, director and actor Edward Norton has been working on this passion project for more than a decade, backdating Jonathan Lethem’s novel to root it in a very noir 1950s. Daniel Pemberton’s relaxed jazz score accompanies the well told tale and the two and a half hour run time never drags. In fact, half way through, the action more or less pauses while we sit in a jazz club with Lionel and listen to a song from beginning to end. More films should have the confidence to do this!

“You come off weird, but you’re smart!”

Lionel’s physical and mental tics quickly become part of his charm and part of his investigative toolbox. His ability to disarm suspects and then utilise his photographic memory set him apart from the other guys left in the headless firm.

Alec Baldwin plays the wheeling and dealing Moses Randolph, an unelected self-styled tsar who controls much of the city’s development with a stern look backed up by bully boys to enforce his plans. Not a million miles away from the real-life figure of Robert Moses. Motherless Brooklyn really fits into the slew of films this year that get under the skin of mob and mafia organisations.

Undoubtedly male-heavy, for the first hour women are mostly bystanders in the story. Then Lionel finds Laura Rose, a campaigner fighting the gentrification and its racist undertones. Gugu Mbatha-Raw embraces the ambiguity that surrounds her character as the audience watch Lionel try to figure out how she fits into the incomplete jigsaw puzzle that he has been assembling.

The plot’s not without the occasional hole and the version of New York on show is rather sepia, but overall Motherless Brooklyn is a really enjoyable tale, centred around a likeable and eccentric character who reveals as much about his city as the crime he’s investigating.

Motherless Brooklyn opens in UK and Irish cinemas from Friday 6 December.

Wednesday, December 04, 2019

Beauty and the Beast – banterific with fabulous special effects (Grand Opera House until 12 January)

Beauty and the Beast starts with a flash bang wallop and the pyrotechnics continue throughout the Grand Opera House’s 2019 pantomime. Qdos Entertainment are running 35 pantomimes across the UK this Christmas, and they have the organisational muscle and the advance box office takings to throw everything at this production.

There are adult dancers in psychedelic costumes, young ones from the McMaster Stage School, magical tricks, a rose shedding its petals, a huge cake that’s on stage for less than a minute, fireworks shooting across the stage, cast members flying up into the air, and a sports car flying out over the audience.

Yet it’s the brass neck of May McFettridge (playing Mrs Potty but generally referred to as ‘May’ throughout) that draws the best audience reaction (and the standing ovation at the end). Scriptwriter Alan McHugh must weep buckets at the realisation that much of what he supplies in the script will be ripped out and replaced with local banter, insulting everyone brave enough to sit in the front two rows. It’s tiresome stuff, and based around a slightly uncomfortably dated sensibility, but it’s undoubtedly crowd pleasing. A heckler got their just comeuppance last night with a sharp putdown underlining the fact that John Linehan– celebrating 30 years in panto this season – won’t be letting go of May’s star billing anytime soon.

Yet the witty repartee and big production values comes at a cost. The actual story of Beauty and the Beast is in tatters. We jump from the Beast being scary to his plea to Belle that “I want you to be welcome here, not afraid” in a heartbeat. Blink and you’ll miss the reason why two cast members jump into the fabulous special effect sports car to race back to the village – I was a bit disappointed that it wasn’t a Dale Farm milk float – and still fail to get there first. The punchline to one of Mandy Muden’s magic tricks – somewhat overshadowed by the brilliantly dour response of the audience volunteer up on stage – was mumbled and four minutes of build-up disappeared into a puff of confusion. The Enchantress (Joanna O’Hara) runs on stage and helpfully flags up where we’ve got to in the story. The whole is somewhat less than the sum of its parts.

“Empty castle, empty corridors, empty rooms – imaging having a castle like that in Belfast” jokes the Beast in one of the topical references. The Beast is played by Ben Richards who portrays a real sense of anguish in his scenes opposite Belle. Georgia Lennon is one of the most junior (and least well paid) principal actors in the show, yet is one of the few who gets to show off her acting talent. Her Belle is tender and determined and there’s a real sense of emotion and theatre when she’s on stage with Richards. Danny Bayne plays the baddie with conviction and a correct amount of overacting necessary for pantomime, though his character’s name, Flash Harry, may make punters wonder whether the local Freddie Mercury impersonator now has a shaved-chested impersonator. (Oh no he doesn’t.)

Throw in a spot of Ed Sheeran Thinking Out Loud, a puntastic medley of songs that get the adults singing along, a familiar but effective 12 Days of Christmas sketch complete with rehearsed mistakes that joyously mix in with genuine slipups to create one of the funniest moments of the show, and you have the two hour phenomenon that is the hugely popular Grand Opera House festive show. It’s unlike any other pantomime you’ll see on these islands. If the special effects were removed, would the spectacle still shine so bright?

“We can’t change how we look; but we can choose how we behave” says Belle as she challenges the Beast’s negative thinking. Maybe that’s also a challenge to the central Belfast venue which is going dark at the end of this pantomime run to refit its interior and modernise its customer service areas. Maybe the worn out jokes about religion and asides about sexuality need to put in the builder’s skip and some plush and more up-to-date humour fitted into next year’s show (Goldilocks and the Three Bears, already 30% of seats sold).

Beauty and the Beast continues at the Grand Opera House until Sunday 12 January. Oh yes it is …

Saturday, November 30, 2019

The Frozen Princess – community panto which entertains from start to finish (Waterfront Studio until 31 December)

Based loosely on Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Queen, and with more than a nod to the Frozen movie, the Waterfront Studio pantomime this year is The Frozen Princess.

When Emily is cursed by a broken mirror and disappears off to the Snow Castle up on Cave Hill, her sister Anna is desperate to thaw relations in time for her wedding. Her nanny, Amanda Marry-Weather, has an endless list of tasks to complete ahead of Princess Anna’s wedding, but top of the list is finding her own perfect man. Meanwhile the Frozen Princess’ sidekicks are hunting high and low to capture Prince Freddie Foundered, there’s a reindeer on the loose, a snowman ready to melt someone’s heart and rhyming Fairy Sunshine who is trying to make everything good again.

The energetic cast of six tackle the multi-roled script and director Chris Robinson incorporates lots of audience participation, quick changes and jumping off stage to race around the auditorium. The two-level set is glittery, the props are supersized, there are references galore to streets and landmarks across Belfast, and there must be 12–15 songs (kudos to Katie Richardson) packed into the two-hour show which trilled audiences at the early afternoon performance I attended today. The cover of George Ezra’s Shotgun is superb and the final uplifting We’ve Got Each Other Back for Good really shows off Annika Graham’s choreography.

Marty Maguire’s pantomime dame spits out strings of jokes, littered with puns and ad libs. It’s a real skill to be able to hold a stage on your own for five minutes at a time in front of such a young family audience.

Gavin Peden is a Waterfront panto regular and revels in his role as the somewhat dumbfounded Prince. Eimear Barr’s Princess Anna is tall, confident, and will do anything to rescue her finance. The I’m a Sucker for You duet with Barr and Peden is a highlight before the interval.

Every Christmas panto needs a couple of clowns, and The Frozen Princess has two capable comic actors in the cast, Nicky Harley and Jo Donnelly, who pull off crazy disco dance moves and try to help their evil overlord put a freeze on the imminent nuptials. Finally, playing the titular role, Catriona McFeely spends most of the performance casting withering looks down from her lofty stage before her getting her warmth back in the finale.

This is a community panto which entertains primary school-aged children and their accompanying grownups from start to finish. There are no big gimmicks or fancy projections, though the lighting design is pretty spectacular and there’s a quick flurry of snow. Instead Tom Rowntree-Finlay and Thomas McCorry’s well-structured plot is performed with vigour and verve.

The Frozen Princess by GBL Productions runs in the Waterfront Studio until 31 December.

Ordinary Love – a triumph of restraint as script, direction, music and cast combine with the audience’s own insecurities (UK and Irish cinemas from 6 December)


Has a film ever been made before about Whiteabbey? Ordinary Love is a celebration of late sixties and early seventies Northern Ireland architecture with heavy wood panelling, ghastly pink and beige bathroom suites, exposed internal brickwork and chunky stone fireplaces. Was it every truly modern?

Joan and Tom take a purposeful stroll every evening down the Shore Road. Their lives are full of ritual, gently needling each other before retreating back into comfortable mundanity and talking about everything and nothing in the abstract. They eat chops that Joan takes out of the freezer. It’s like watching your parents up on the screen. Welcome to County Antrim!

The couple have been married for a long time, but the seeds of doubt are soon sown about their emotional and physical health. Discovering a lump in her left breast, Joan embarks on an unmapped journey through the health service that will put more than her body under the microscope.
“All I know is it felt serious.”

Lesley Manville plays Joan as a woman who is down but not out. We watch her despondency, her confusion, her narkiness, her coming to terms with treatment and its side effects. The character is written with an inner strength that never quite breaks.
“I just can’t tell her how frightened I am.”

Meanwhile we see a very different side to the normal bullish Liam Neeson. Tom isn’t an alpha male, or an aggressor. He’s a broken man who grieves the death of his daughter and with the sceptre of further loss hanging over his family, he bottles up his anxiety about the woman he’s come to rely on and takes for granted. Add to that a smidgeon of casual sexism, and you have a classic Northern Ireland emotionally reserved man.

Growing up among a couple of generations of medics must have stood co-director Lisa Barros D’Sa in good staid to bring the well-meaning but confusing and dignity-stripping nature of the health service to the fore in the story. Along with Glenn Leyburn, she creates moments of great isolation and loneliness (often in waiting rooms) along with scenes of warmth and intimacy (as Joan allows Tom to sort out her hair loss) as we spend a year in the life of a breast cancer patient.
“On top of everything I’m going through, I’ve got to cope with you.”

Owen McCafferty is well versed in writing about tragedy and Belfast. While Ordinary Love is his first screenplay, it doesn’t feel overly theatrical, and uses silence to tell the story as much as clever words and neat situations. Sure, there’s symbolism in the death of a goldfish, but it’s not laboured. Piers McGrail’s cinematography is full of long tracking shots down corridors, along roads and through scanners. The sense of unstoppable wordless movement is amplified by the rich soundtrack from David Holmes and Brian Irvine. Creatively, it’s an ensemble success.

Half-way through the 90-minute film, another couple (David Wilmot and Amit Shah) are introduced, reflecting some of Joan and Tom’s worries and behaviours back at them. In a theatre script, McCafferty might have been compelled to bounce between the two families much earlier in the show; but here on film they are dropped in gently and we find out whether there room in Joan and Tom’s seemingly empty house and somewhat empty lives for other people.

The restraint of Ordinary Love is its triumph. Neeson and Manville don’t have to chew the scenery in order to act their socks off. It’s about tone. It’s about building on the audience’s own insecurities and family – or even personal – experience of cancer. It’s about quietly offering up the big unspoken philosophical questions in the midst of coping with what life throws at us.

Ordinary Love is released in UK and Irish cinemas on 6 December. The 6.20pm screening on Monday 9 December in the Queen’s Film Theatre will be followed by a Q&A with directors Lisa Barros D’Sa and Glenn Leyburn.

Friday, November 29, 2019

Peter Pan – Paul Boyd’s fresh adaptation of the classic tale (Lyric Theatre until 4 January)

The children in the Darling household are frustrated that their nightly episode of the adventures of Peter Pan has reached a real cliff-hanger and there’s no sign of the next part … when a fairy appears in the room followed by a young figure at the window. Soon, from the safety of the nursery – though I don’t like the look of Nanny Cookson – Wendy, John and Michael are flying off to Neverland to go native, battle pirates on the Jolly Roger, and rescue some very grubby lost boys.

With a family member in one of the alternating young ensemble casts, it’s not my place to offer a critical opinion of a show I’ve such a close connection with, not to mention spent so long dropping off and picking someone up from rehearsals.

Writer, lyricist, composer and director Paul Boyd has gone back and incorporated some of J.M. Barrie’s original ideas into this fresh adaptation of the classic tale which uses all kinds of nooks and crannies in the Lyric Theatre’s main auditorium to tell the story.

Expect a few casting twists, steam punk costumes, a Mad Max soundtrack, psychedelic Neverland plants that could be straight out of In The Night Garden, some clever misdirection to divert your attention, and scenes that are stolen by the appearance of Nana the dog (who really needs to come on and take a bow) and a rather familiar friend from recent production of Crocodile Fever.

If you want to help reunite Peter with his shadow, experience the musical mermaids, witness some high flying jinks, laugh along with a toothy Miss Smee, marvel at the exuberant Peter Pan, join with Wendy as she learns to take risks, or sit back to enjoy Tiger Lily’s darling voice, then you have until 4 January to run away to Neverland and join Peter Pan’s gang in the Lyric Theatre.

Photo credit: Johnny Frazer

A Christmas Carol – a fun, family-friendly and fast-paced show (The MAC until 5 January)


When it comes to Christmas theatre shows, the key is to know your audience. While the advice should apply at all times of the year, it’s particularly crucial for festive events. After all, it should be a crime against the arts (not to mention funders) not to grasp the opportunity to superserve those who only attend out of annual habit in order to lure them into coming back to something else before the end of next year.

This year’s adaptation of A Christmas Carol in The MAC knows what it’s doing. At what other time of the year would it would be proper to include a song that includes a list of corny (cracker) jokes? But that was the moment in last’s night performance that sealed the deal and won over the hearts of the youngest audience members, and with them, their grown-up family and friends, who giggled easily through the rest of the show.

Tara Lynne O’Neill and Simon Magill’s script places Ebenezer Scrooge (Richard Croxford) in a run-down theatre that would be more profitable if he closed the doors and sold the land for apartments. Ignoring everyone around him, he takes little notice of his assistant Bobbie Cratchit (Molly Logan), optimistic nephew Fred (Darren Franklin), and is immune to the arguing ghosts of dead staff who haven’t quite gone away. But when his former co-owner Jacob Marley rattles his chains (the projected image of director Sean Kearns), Scrooge is given an opportunity to mend his ways.

Croxford’s Scrooge is selfish and mean, but never nasty. His interactions with the ghosts of Christmas part, present and yet to come gradually soften his approach, showing increasing understanding as his evening of education progresses. He cuts a much more redeemable figure than the normal miserly portrayal of Scrooge. And the lightness of touch is very appropriate for the family audience in the stalls who want to be entertained rather than frightened or depressed.

Dianna Ennis’ intricate set is full of doors, trap doors and interesting props. There’s always a lot going on and on top of the built-in lighting, Conan McIvor’s projections animate the set and props. Cartoon sound effects and visual kapows are wildly anachronistic for a turn of the last century theatre environs, but they definitely keep the show alive for the weeuns.

An other-worldly feel is quickly established with flickering paintings and the ghosts wandering around in their white attire. With the action largely taking place at the front of the stage, there’s an intimacy about the performance that helps connect this non-pantomime with its audience.

The script is peppered with theatrical in-jokes, and the inclusion of a deceased stage manager alongside the dead actors adds to the richness of observation as well as the comedic opportunity. I’m sure I wasn’t the only audience member thinking about Jonathan Bell during the discussion about needing a larger turkey!

On top of a somewhat magical soundscape, Garth McConaghie delivers a set of songs built around the musical talents of the cast. Jolene O’Hara’s voice is allowed to soar up to the rafters of The MAC as she brings the French ghost Scarlett to life with a heavy accent worthy of 'Allo 'Allo and a constant struggle to find the right English word to finish her sentences. Maeve Byrne milks every last quart out of the gagtastic Ghost of Christmas Present standing atop a moving staircase (a near-mandatory feature in all musicals). Jenny Coates hobbles (and is sometimes carried with a choreographed precision) around the stage as peppy Tiny Tim, while Maeve Smyth delivers the final punch as Scrooge comes face to face with his future. While featuring some familiar faces, the cast also includes a number of actors — some returning home — making their debut on a Belfast stage.

The fretful mention of reviewers (“fingers crossed for a good one”) in a song – not quite so cynical as Curtains! – turns out to be unnecessary worrying by the creatives. By the time Welcome to our World of Make Believe is reprised at the end, and the snow has fallen (always a beautiful moment in any theatre production and who could begrudge awarding an extra star for its inclusion), a rather satisfying tale has been well told. As director, Sean Kearns weaves together a tight script, a technically complex set and a well-balanced cast to create a fun, family-friendly and fast-paced show.

A Christmas Carol continues at The MAC until 5 January.

Wednesday, November 27, 2019

Shooting the Mafia – celebrating Letizia Battaglia’s Sicilian photography which documented the aftermath of mafia violence (QFT from Friday 29 November)

Born in 1935, celebrated photographer Letizia Battaglia’s young life was dominated by men who cramped her freedom. A man’s sexual act in front of her in a shadowy street, her father grounding her and sending her to a convent school, an older husband who fathered her two children but was violent towards her and didn’t think a young mother barely out of her teens should go back to study.

As her children grew up, she took on casual work in the L’Ora daily newspaper in Palermo, Sicily, preferring pictures over words and becoming a photographer documenting the violence and killings, and it was the turn of the mafia to try and exert pressure on Battaglia, only to discover that while she experienced fear, she wouldn’t cower or desist.

Shooting the Mafia tells the intertwined stories of the breakdown in the rule of law on Sicily with the Corleonesi clan dominating local industry, commerce and society while Battaglia’s own personal breakdown in the rule of love, taking on young lovers, one of whom her jealous husband shot. They divorced in 1971.

Ciné footage of Sicilian events is mixed in with her own stark black and white still photography – sometimes featuring still warm corpses lying where they fell – as well as clips from Italian films of the time which are used to symbolically illustrate the voiceover narration about her life. Amazingly, two of her former partners sit down on camera to recollect with Battaglia: Santi who used to sneak into her house while she was still married, and Franco who lived with her for 18 years. There’s still a lot of affection and the men continue to be entranced by the octogenarian.

Battaglia briefly acknowledges her difficult relationship with her daughters and it’s clear that her happiness and wellbeing floats above any joy or satisfaction she gets out of love or companionship. Included in the film are the stories of anti-mafia judges Falcone and Borsellino who became friends as she moved from merely shooting the mobsters to enter politics as an elected representative for the Green Party.

War correspondents and war photographers tend to work away from home. Their biographies typically outline how they attempt to compartmentalise what they see and who they are, though the trauma of work inevitably seems to impinge on their home life. Battaglia’s conflict was right on her doorstop in the capital city of the island of Sicily: five or more murders a day in Palermo and 1000 people killed one year at its peak. Along with colleagues, she was under threat for documenting the faces of mafia friends and family at funerals.

Battaglia was suffering from depression when she started working for L’Ora. While showing remarkable resilience, the photojournalist speaks about the moments in her later career – and she certainly shows no sign of retiring – when she could not face jumping in a taxi to witness the aftermath of the latest major atrocity, reminding me of the trauma Deric Henderson spoke of earlier this year about organising a team of 20 reporters and photographers to report from Omagh after the 1998 bombing, but his decision not to be there himself.

As a refresher on mafia history and an exhibition of imagery by Letizia Battaglia, this is a superb documentary. If you endured Martin Scorsese’s mob confessional feature The Irishman, then Shooting the Mafia is a less glitzy companion piece to show how the Sicilian mafia bosses actually lived and worked.

Unusually, this film benefits from director Kim Longinotto’s wandering focus which belatedly shifts away from Battaglia to assess how Sicilian society began to change in light of the car bombs that murdered anti-mafia figures. It’s as if the population found their voice and the huge public vigils could begin relieving the pressure on Battaglia’s shoulders to bring the madness to the fore.

Shooting the Mafia (15) is being screened in Queen’s Film Theatre from Friday 29 November. The screening on Monday 2 December will be followed by a discussion with the film’s producer, Niamh Fagan, as part of BFI Audience Fund’s Reclaim the Frame project.

Monday, November 25, 2019

Two Fingers Up … to staid and inadequate sex education that prepares no one for love nor life

Welcome to an hour of self-discovery as three young women look back over the education system’s lacklustre attempt to prepare them for growing up. Two Fingers Up remembers the silence and discomfort in the classroom, from priests and parents and their own friends who talk a good game but are fumbling in the dark when it comes to understanding what’s happening to their bodies and minds.

There’s a frankness and honesty about their wild misconceptions, vaginas (“my Mum says theiy’re hidden for a reason”), gratuitously texted dick pics (that look “nothing like the dicks [they] draw in school”) received from boys (who are excluded from ‘the talk’ girls receive in P7 about puberty) whose ignorance hides in the shadow of their boasting, and unanswered questions about human anatomy, and the mechanics of periods never mind satisfaction. Even in the age of chat rooms and websites, misunderstandings persisted as this generation grew up.

The pace moves swiftly as they shift from childhood to adulthood before the threesome hit overdrive with bursts of song like When your lips hang low (probably funnier and cleverer than anything you’ll see on stage this Christmas), an incomplete and shaming lesson from Love For Life, and a rip-roaring visit to Ann Summers (another source of deceitful notions).

Co-produced by Prime Cut Productions and Tinderbox Theatre Company in Dublin Fringe Festival, Two Fingers Up was back in Belfast for one night at the Brian Friel Theatre.

Orla Graham strikes great poses while playing the delightfully matter-of-fact Sharon, and twists her mouth around the raft of other characters that populate the girls’ universe. Hayley is queen of the understatement and the long pause, played to a tee by Shannon Wilkinson who impressed this time last year in PintSized Production’s Wasted.

Leader of the pack is Leah, a young woman who steps forward into the unknown as much as she is pushed by peer pressure. Sarah Reid demonstrates a flair for physical comedy as she exaggerates movements and rolls her eyes with confusion, disgust and sometimes even joy.

Overlapping dialogue emphasises the closeness of teenage friends. Written and directed by Seón Simpson and Gina Donnelly, the cast and creatives make fannies funnier than is normally permitted. The writing is intelligent, the awkward yet never ribald situations certainly resonating with tonight’s student-aged audience who roared with recognition. By putting two fingers up to stiff, staid and incomplete education, the writers deliver a frank yet accessible lesson in sex education that no teacher would dare to host in a school.

Which begs the question: in a world constantly labelled as hyper-sexualised, and with a sex-obsessed internet which offers no context or explanation for the graphic insights it contains, should the education system really continue to value ignorance over understanding and rely on inadequate contracted-in lessons? And are parents really so uptight that we’d prefer old fashioned attitudes to prevail rather than learn from our own flops?

Saturday, November 23, 2019

Private Peaceful – powerful writing performed with talent and conviction, a statement about what it means to be alive (PintSized Productions)

Simon Reade’s adaptation of Michael Morpurgo’s novel Private Peaceful is a powerful piece of writing. And Odhran Mc Nulty’s portrayal of Private Tommo Peaceful is a joy to watch.

As Tommo counts down the hours to a grave event, he remembers a more carefree life before the Great War, growing up in rural Devon with brother Charlie and local girl Molly. Conflict changes everything and when he joins up at 16, pretending to be his older brother’s twin, the pair undergo the same gruelling training and are posted together to the front at Ypres.

The descriptive monologue fires up your imagination. Nuala Donnelly’s direction paints Mc Nulty across the full width of the stage and to its sides and front. He’s bristling with agitation and energy, his khaki uniform set against the black back wall of Accidental Theatre. His eyes are wide, sweat rolls off his brow as he delivers an intense performance, full of emotion and pace. That somehow there will be a reunion by one of the Peaceful lads with Molly sustains the audience’s hope that some good can come from amongst the terror.
“In the next room slept the two people I loved the most in the world … who had deserted me.”

Tommo’s remembrances are full of regret and disappointment. Spoiler alert: Morpurgo isn’t known for happy endings! Sensory overload is nearly tangible as the battlefield effects bolster the sense of panic in Tommo’s voice. (The use of Howard Goodall’s familiar The Lord is My Shepherd – the Vicar of Dibley theme tune – is anachronistic given that it was written in 1994.)

Simply staged but performed with talent and conviction, Private Peaceful is a statement about what it means to be alive. At a time when English nationalism is on the rise, the spirit of forced patriotism and brotherly love is very poignant.

Private Peaceful’s short tour continues with performances in The American Bar on Sunday 24 November at 3pm and Tuesday 26 at 7.30pm in The American Bar, Belfast and Wednesday 27 at 7.30pm in Sean Holywood Arts Centre in Newry.

Friday, November 22, 2019

Driving Home For Christmas – strange happenings in a snowed-in mid-Ulster pub (Lyric Theatre until 4 January)

Grimes and McKee are back on the Lyric Theatre stage with a new festive show, Driving Home For Christmas.

When a disparate bunch of people are frustrated by snow in their attempts to get home on Christmas Eve, they take shelter in The Dander Inn, off the beaten track in isolated mid-Ulster, and experience a less than warm welcome from twin sibling proprietors Pat and Paddy.

Take one ABBA tribute band, a posh BT9er going to spend Christmas Day with his fiancée’s culchie family, and a travelling saleswoman. Throw in some classic film and TV references, a scene from the Godfather, and the hound from hell, and you’ve got a peculiar mix of comedy sketches, musical numbers and linking dialogue.

Ruby Campbell plays Ciara, a calm and gracious nurse. Her soulful voice lifts the performance of the title song which is a highlight of the second half. We never quite understand why she has agreed to marry Rudy (Gary Crossan), an impractical fellow with marbles in his mouth and an accent that drifts between English public school, Helens Bay and the Malone Road.

Ali White adds yet more familial strife as Alison, who sells supplies to Catholic churches. Her husband is not expected to be coping well with preparations for the big day at home. But the male characters are better written and developed than the women. Alan McKee plays rough and ready Frank from the tribute group while his fellow artist Rod McVey is a man of few words who settles down at a piano he ‘finds’ in the corner of the pub. Conor Grimes revels in his dual roles, accents and costumes of dithery Pat and frugal Paddy, though sadly steers clear of pantomime-style too quick changes.

A madcap Bullseye sketch is crowd-pleasing and shows off the team’s talent. The set design (Stuart Marshall) gives some subtle clues to the late plot twist, and inclusion of Bacon Fries behind the bar is a nice nod to another recent show on the same stage.

While there are plenty of jokes, good harmony singing and some clever lyrical changes (These are a Few of My Favourite Best Selling Things) throughout the two-hour performance, the timing and pacing of the show is still a little rough. That may settle down as the run continues, but overall it doesn’t have the ambition or winning formula of Grimes and McKee’s magnum opus Nativity … What the Donkey Saw (which was also directed by Frankie McCafferty).

Driving Home For Christmas continues in the Lyric Theatre until 4 January.